Memories of You
by Maggiemay
Summary: This is set at the end of Series 3, Episode 26 "In Harm's Way", where Jen and Nick share a "moment" in the car.  What may have happened from that point on.
1. Chapter 1

So – this latest fic (only a few chapters) is set at the end of Episode 26, Series 3, "In Harm's Way", created and written by John Hugginson and John Banas, after Nick has shot dead William Clegg, and he and Jen share a "moment" in the car. It is my imaginings of what may have happened at that point.

Contains some dialogue from that episode.

Disclaimer: I do not own City Homicide or its characters.,

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><p>1.<p>

They sat in the car, listening to the vitriolic comments spewing forth from the talkback show on radio. They were the usual complaints of trigger happy Police that seemed to eventuate each time there was a Police shooting. _Why didn't they use capsicum spray or the tasers or something? Why didn't they try to talk him down?_

_If it's not street violence, it's the cops, gun crazy cowboys._

Nick sat back in his seat, staring vacantly out the window, listening to the comments that were ultimately being directed towards him and that afternoon's events. Jen couldn't take it anymore. She reached across and turned off the radio. Enough was enough. She had had the unfortunate experience of having shot dead a young man, and she knew that to hear these sorts of things from an angry public was the last thing that Nick needed right now. He would be going through enough, just knowing that he had taken a life.

"You had no choice".

"I know".

She reached out and placed her hand over his. He glanced over at her, feeling electrified by the physical contact between them and entwined his fingers with hers.

He turned to stare out the window at the night, the traffic buzzing by, life still continuing as normal for so many people.

He had empathised with William Clegg. He had never wanted it to turn out this way, the family had been through enough with the loss of their son Peter. But Nick had been left with no choice but to shoot him. He wished it had turned out differently, that William Clegg had put down his weapon and surrendered. But he hadn't. There were others at risk and Nick had been left with no other option. He knew that. He knew that Jen was right; but it didn't make him feel any less distraught at what had transpired.

Her fingers in his were having such an effect on him – tingling down his spine, his heartbeat quickened. This was the first time in four years that they had touched. He closed his eyes at the memory of it.

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><p><em>He lay on his side in the bed, his eyes half closed, secretly watching her as she came into the bedroom they were sharing as husband and wife, as Trish and Wesley Claybourne. She was in her pyjamas, having just had a shower. Even the shapeless pyjama top and long pants could not hide the trim and taut figure beneath. Her blonde hair hung across her shoulders and across her eyes. He constantly had to resist the urge to brush it off her face.<em>

_They had been undercover for three months now, living as husband and wife. They hadn't known each other at all, but Nick liked her. A lot. She was generous, funny and quick witted, intelligent and gentle. He thought that she was extremely attractive, maybe even beautiful, and her personality was fabulous. Everything he was looking for in a woman. Except he couldn't have her. They were here, doing a job, work colleagues, that was all._

_Tonight, after dinner, his hands had brushed against hers when they both reached for the tea towel to dry the dishes. They laughed it off, but the current he felt run through him at that time was unbelievable. It was like an electric shock. There was definitely something between them, he thought; an attraction._

_He felt her slip into the bed next to him. She reached over and turned out the light. He could smell her, the freshness and scent of soap radiating off her, with just the faintest lingering aroma of her perfume. It was dark, but he knew that there were cameras in the room. He didn't know whether to make a move or not. Probably not. They were working, they mustn't ever forget that._

"_Nick". Her voice was a whisper and he felt her turning towards him, so he turned around to face her. "Do you think Hartono will turn up to Abdul Supomo's tomorrow night? For the party?"_

_He could pick up on the tension and anxiousness in her voice. "Maybe. Don't worry, though, everything's solid. We're fine."_

_She sighed. "I know...I just...I can't help feeling nervous about this."_

_He reached over and lightly stroked her cheek. She felt a shudder run through her body. He had touched her. Not as Wesley, but as Nick. She placed her fingers gently over his. Should she read anything into it, or is he just trying to comfort her, to reassure her?_

_He wished that he didn't have to hold back. He was sure that if there wasn't a camera in the room right now, that something might happen..._

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><p>He looked down at their hands, entwined together. For four years, he had fantasised about seeing her again, about their meeting each other once again and reigniting the unresolved passion that he <em>knew <em>had developed between them whilst they were undercover.

"Why don't we go and I'll make you something to eat? You shouldn't be alone."

He looked over at her. She was so caring and compassionate and he loved that about her. Love. In the 13 months that they had spent together as husband and wife, he had fallen hopelessly in love with her. Thoughts of her had occupied his mind for four long years. He had been unable to move on. He had had casual affairs with women in that time – not many, just a handful; but it was never anything serious. Never anything like the feelings that he had for Jen. He had slept with other women, but it was nothing like what he had experienced previously, with her. And they hadn't even consummated their relationship. Once, they very nearly had. They had lost track of themselves, had faltered, had nearly compromised their undercover work by getting too close. That brief interlude had been explosive, and it was the one memory of her that he had to hang on to, that he used as a yardstick by which to measure any liaison with any other woman.

He shook his head slightly, trying to rid himself of the memory, bring himself back to the present.

"Okay. Sounds good. I could use the company". _Oh Jen, I want to be close to you again._

She reluctantly let go of his hand. It had felt so good to touch him again. She had managed to get thoughts of him out of her head in the last four years, his face only sprung up in her dreams, or in a situation with another man. Not that there had been many. She had been celibate for all of that time. She wasn't the sort of person to just 'give it away' , she had to feel something for the person she was sleeping with. She wished that things had been different with her and Nick. She wished that they had never stopped themselves. She had never wanted anything so badly in her life, and she had not felt that way with anyone since that time.

Working with Nick again, it was bringing up these memories, these feelings that she had tried so hard to suppress; and now, touching him again. She felt the pangs of desire and longing that had once been there. Regretfully, she didn't think that things could ever progress any further between them. They were now in an even more untenable situation than they had been previously. Now they were working side by side again, in Homicide. Work colleagues yet again. Relationships between colleagues were not the done thing.

She sighed heavily as Nick put the car in drive and pulled out into the evening traffic.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own City Homicide or its characters.

Thanks to those who take the time to review. I appreciate it.

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><p>2.<p>

Jen busied herself in Nick's kitchen, making them something to eat whilst Nick was in the shower. She had found a lot of cookbooks on his kitchen shelf, as well as a plethora of Asian sauces and spices. She remembered him mentioning once that he was partial to Asian flavours.

In the fridge, she found some vegetables, and took some beef out of the freezer, enough to whip up a decent stirfry. While she waited for the meat to defrost in the microwave, she glanced around, taking in the surroundings of Nick's kitchen and living room.

He was definitely renovating, and that was something else she remembered about him – he had always been good with his hands, able to fix things at the drop of a hat.

There were old photographs adorning the shelves, she assumed they were of Nick's family, and the bookshelf was overflowing with titles. There were books to do with natural habitats and wildlife, and books on the Australian outback, as well as some classic novels. She had figured Nick was a reader. When they had lived as Trish and Wesley, he had read the paper religiously every day, from cover to cover, and had often made comments about wishing that he had a decent book to read.

She had ended up finding him a couple of books in an old op shop, and he used to sit up in bed on some nights, reading intently. She smiled at the memory. Some nights, he had driven her crazy with the constant flicking of pages.

Nick had several pictures hanging on the walls, and there were a few surprising pieces around the room – old jugs and urns, porcelain bowls. He seemed to appreciate fine things.

The microwave beeped in readiness, interrupting her thoughts. She removed the meat and began slicing, then threw the lot into a wok, tossing quickly, before adding the vegetables she had prepared.

Nick came out of the bathroom. He had changed into tracksuit pants and an old sweatshirt.

He took in the sight of Jen in his kitchen, standing over a sizzling wok, tossing madly, her back to him.

She was wearing tailored grey pants, with a button up shirt in a medium shade of purple. He loved it when she wore colour, it seemed to set off her green eyes and counter the delicate pallor of her skin. Those big eyes, which dominated her face. They were piercing and so expressive – he could see everything in those deep green pools. And then there was that large beauty spot on the left of her face. He had run his fingers over that cheek, over that blemish, time and time again.

Jen always wore minimal makeup, just a touch of blush on her cheeks, which brought out the rosy hue of her lips. Her blonde hair was shorter than it had been when they were undercover together. It now hung just below her shoulders, cascading across them in layers.

He thought that she was gorgeous. Even as Trish, she had been beautiful, but as Jen, she was absolutely breathtaking.

His body was beginning to respond to the thoughts going through his mind, and Nick knew that he needed to focus on other things.

"Smells great."

She turned and smiled at him, that smile which lit up her entire face. Her whole face smiled at him and he felt slightly weak at the knees of the sight of her, here in his house.

"Oh, I just found whatever I could. Hope stirfry's okay?"

"Perfect." He smiled, touched that she had seemed to remember his penchant for Asian food.

He rummaged around in the fridge and produced a bottle of white wine. He poured two glasses, handing her one. He got two bowls out of the cupboard and laid them on the kitchen bench, while Jen started spooning the stirfry into the bowls. He carried them over to the coffee table in the living area; she followed with the wine glasses.

After having lived as husband and wife for over twelve months, they were completely comfortable in each other's presence, and they moved together in unison, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

After they had finished eating, and had cleared away the dishes, they sat back in Nick's lounge room, drinking their wine. They were seated next to each other on the long leather sofa, both facing each other slightly.

"How do you feel now?" Jen asked quietly.

"I don't know. I know that I had no choice, Jen. But the last thing I wanted to do was shoot him. I didn't even want to bring him in, you know that."

"This case really got to you, didn't it?"

He stared at her intently. "All of those parents...they'd all suffered enough. They suffered at the hands of little pissheads who took everything away from them, and then got off lightly. They were let down by the system, Jen. And William Clegg's wife – now she has to deal with the loss of her husband as well. Ultimately, the crime that took her son's life, also took her husband's. And that's not fair."

Jen sighed quietly. She had never seen him so passionate, so riled up over a case. "But that's the way it goes sometimes, Nick. You and I both know that. We see it all the time."

"Yeah, but..."He stopped, trying to find the words, trying to work out how to tell her the one thing that he had never told any of his colleagues.

She reached across and took his hand, squeezing it tightly. "Nick. What is it?"

They knew a lot about each other, but there were still things that they did not know, personal things, things they hadn't been able to discuss, as Trish and Wesley.

Nick knew that if he was going to tell anyone about his past, his deepest secrets, his desires, his dreams, his tragedies; it would be Jen to whom he confided.

He squeezed her hand back, trying to ignore the feelings of arousal that she set in motion within him.

And then he began his story.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own City Homicide or its characters.

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><p>3.<p>

_Jen and Nick sat in the car in the dark, parked outside the modest suburban house._

_They looked at each other and he grabbed hold of her hand. "You ready for this?"_

_She swallowed and nodded slowly. "Yes, I'm ready. Wesley."_

"_Okay. Trish. We'll be fine. Everything's okay. Stay by me."_

_They got out of the car and walked hand in hand up to the front door of Abdul Supomo's home. They could hear music, voices, the sounds of people enjoying themselves. Nick rang the bell, and they heard it echo loudly inside the house._

_The front door was opened by Abdul, who greeted them warmly with a smile, his arms outstretched in welcoming. "Wesley, Trish. So happy that you could come to my home! Please, please, come in." He stepped aside and ushered them in, Nick still with a firm grasp on Jen's hand._

"_Please..can I get you a drink? Trish?"_

_Jen smiled warmly at him. "Yes, thank you. A wine would be lovely."_

_Nick put his arm around Jen's shoulder. "Just a beer for me, thanks mate."_

_Abdul strode off to get the drinks, leaving Nick and Jen to survey their surroundings. There were about 15 others there, it was obviously quite a small gathering. Food was laid out on a side table, the lights were dimmed, and Indonesian music played softly in the background. _

_They spied Hartono standing alone in a corner of the room. He looked over at them, nodding in acknowledgement. Nick tightened his arm around Jen's shoulder, and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek, at the same time whispering in her ear. "Remember. Stick with me. We're okay"._

_Abdul returned with the drinks. "So, Abdul. Where are your family?" Jen glanced over to see Hartono making his way towards them. _

"_My wife and children are in Indonesia. They went back to visit my wife's family."_

"_Oh, what a shame. I would have loved to have met them" Jen said with sincerity. She sipped her wine and glanced at Nick, who smiled at her warmly._

"_Mr Claybourne, Mrs Claybourne." Hartono took Jen's hand in his, kissing it lightly._

"_Mr Hartono" Nick extended his hand to the man. "Nice to see you again."_

"_And you, Mr Claybourne. I trust we can discuss business at some stage this evening?"_

"_Of course."_

_There was a brief moment of uncomfortable silence as Hartono stared at Jen, and then gave her a slight, tight lipped smile. "Mrs Claybourne. You have been married for how long?"  
>Jen smiled and put her arm around Nick's waist. "Nearly two years. It's our second wedding anniversary next month." She leaned in to kiss Nick gently on the lips. Make it look good, make it look real.<em>

"_Two years. Still newlyweds. You surprise me. You should be concentrating on having a family. Instead you are shipping weapons. Why?"_

_Jen felt the anxiety begin to build within her. She worried that Hartono was suspicious of their motives, that their cover was under threat._

_Nick interjected. "Well, we want to build up our business, have something solid to hand over to our children one day. Financially, we want to be on our feet and have some security, before we have a family. Don't we darling?" He turned to look at Jen. Follow my lead._

_She smiled and touched his face lovingly. "That's right. But I don't think children will be too far away, Mr Hartono."_

_Hartono smiled at her. "Ah, good to hear. Family is very important. Very important for women to be taking care of family business. Mr Claybourne? I will talk later to you about business. Yes?"_

"_Certainly." Nick gave his widest smile, trying to exude as much confidence as possible._

_Later that night, they sat in the loungeroom of the house that SIS had rented for them. _

_Nick handed Jen a steaming mug of tea. She took it from him gratefully, and curled her legs beneath her on the couch. _

"_You okay?" he asked, seating himself next to her._

"_Yeah. Just. That was nerve wracking. Hartono is just so cold and calculating. It's like he's always scheming. He's always summing us up, I don't trust him. I was sure that our cover was blown."_

_Nick sipped his tea. "Yeah. This is not easy, is it?"_

"_No, it's not."_

"_I think we're okay Jen. I think he just has very traditional views of women and family. I think that was all that was about. He was testing the water, trying to see whether or not we share the same family values. Maybe we need to work on that a bit. I think he wants to deal primarily with me, man to man. Maybe we should talk more, in our social circle, about trying for a family. Make the right noises."_

_Jen put down her tea and sighed. "And how is that going to work? Depending upon how long we're going to be doing this – well, I can hardly get pregnant, can I?"_

_Nick blushed. That is not what he had meant, although he had to admit that he had thought about sleeping with Jennifer, wondered what it would be like. "That's not what I'm saying, Jen. But we need to make this look as kosher as possible. If this goes on for any length of time, we'll at least have to tell people that we're trying to have a family."_

_Jen got up and walked over to the window. She pulled the curtain back slightly, looking out into the street. It was quiet, deserted. She suddenly felt very alone, and wanted to go home. She wanted this to be over. She swiped angrily at a tear that had started at the corner of her eye._

_She felt Nick behind her. He placed his hands on her shoulders and pulled her gently back against him._

_She was suddenly conscious of the feel of him, his strong arms on her, his body pulsating warmly behind her. She felt the stirrings of arousal, and despite the fact that she wanted to stay moulded against him, she pulled away._

_He reached out to her and touched her face lightly, his fingers tracing a line down her cheek._

_She shook her head slightly. "Don't" she whispered. "We can't. This isn't real, Nick."_

_Yes, it was. This was real. They had been thrown together in a surreal situation, having to pretend, to make believe. But this wasn't pretend. The way that he felt about her was very real, and he could feel himself falling deeper and deeper every day, powerless to stop his descent into love._


	4. Chapter 4

Lots of people reading, but not too many reviewing. Thanks heaps to those who do take the time to post a review. It's satisfying to know that people are reading, but feedback is always greatly appreciated.

RE. this chapter - I always felt that there was more to Nick's reaction in the episode "In Harm's Way", that perhaps he bore the scars of something from long ago, which made him react with such anger and passion in this case. This is my take on it. Be interested to know what others think.

Disclaimer: I do not own City Homicide or its characters.

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><p>4.<p>

Jen looked at him intently as he began to speak. He was usually such a strong man, so confident, self-assured and protective in a sexy, roguish sort of way. It pained her to see him so obviously broken by something that had happened to him, something he had kept deeply buried from his colleagues.

She could see the distress on his face, the pain deep in his eyes. She wanted to reach out to him, to wrap her arms around him, to be _**his **_protector; but she knew that she couldn't.

"I was 16 when Jason died. He had just turned 21. Had an apprenticeship, a nice girlfriend, was doing really well for himself. I remember mum and dad being so proud of him."

Jen swallowed, looking down at her hands. She thought she knew where this was heading; she had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, knowing that Nick had obviously suffered some great trauma, and that there was nothing that she could do to fix it. When they had started working this case together, she had been surprised by how angry Nick had seemed, she hadn't seen that sort of rage in him before. It wasn't like Nick to not want to put a killer behind bars. She figured that there must be some reason behind his anger, but she had never guessed this. She had never thought that it had been so close to home for him.

"Jas went out to the pub in Footscray one night, with his mates. Just kids enjoying a night out, having a good time. When they were walking home, they were set upon by a group of thugs. Doesn't seem to have been any reason for it, no provocation. Anyway, Jas was badly beaten. He died three days later from his head injuries. My parent's never recovered, Jen. They never got over his death. I went from being a normal 16 year old in a happy family, to being a 16 year old kid living with parents who couldn't cope with the loss of their son. Mum ended up depressed, not sleeping, taking lots of pills. The old man just became withdrawn and sort of gave up on everything. I ended up having to look out for my sister, make sure she was okay. Everything turned to shit. Jen, I've been on the other side. Been in the Clegg's shoes. I know what it's like to have everything ripped away from you by some drunken idiot. You know – I wanted to kill the bastard that murdered my brother. I'm no better than William Clegg."

Jen reached out and took Nick's hands in hers, her voice pleading. "Yes, Nick. You are. You might have wanted to kill that person, but you didn't. You didn't take a gun and threaten him, threaten his family. You joined the Force, and now you can catch those sorts of people. Get them put away, try to stop some other family's pain."

Nick felt his heart swell with affection for her. She was right, of course. She always was. She was sitting there, across from him, holding his hands, pleading with him with those big beautiful eyes. He didn't think that he would be able to contain his feelings for her, for much longer. How he had missed her, in the last four years. She had been his wife – only in name, only in the scenario they were acting out; but it had been so much more than that. The little touches, the soft kisses between a husband and a wife, the brief glances between them, the knowing; knowing that it was so much more.

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><p><em>The early morning sun was streaming through the open curtains, the light reflected throughout the bedroom, rays dancing off the walls. She lay curled into him, her back against his front, their heads almost touching, the pillows pushed so closely together that there was no gap between them.<em>

_His arm draped across her waist, and her arm lay on top of his. Their bodies were moulded closely together. They had ended up that way sometime during the night, both subconsciously craving the physical closeness of each other, gravitating towards one another in sleep, without being fully aware of it._

_She opened her eyes, suddenly becoming aware of the physical proximity of him to her. For a brief second, she wanted to lean back into him even further, press herself against him, pull his arm tighter towards her. Instead, she lightly removed her arm from atop his, and gently wriggled her way out from beneath his strong hold._

_He sensed the movement and opened his eyes, catching a glimpse of her as she rose from the bed and padded lightly away, into the kitchen. He sighed, leaning further into her pillow, inhaling her scent and feeling intoxicated with the desire and longing that he felt for her._

_He got up slowly, and followed her into the kitchen. She stood with her back to him, at the kitchen bench, making a coffee. He walked quietly up behind her and placed his hand on the small of her back. "Morning" he said softly, against her cheek._

_The feel of his hand on her back, the whisper of his breath on her neck. Jen shuddered and closed her eyes, willing herself to resist the urge to turn around, fling her arms around his neck, and kiss him with a searing passion._

_She felt his hand move from the small of her back, to rest on her hip, and she was unable to prevent the small gasp that escaped her lips. This was torturous. They had shared their lives for the last 8 months, and she couldn't dampen the smouldering desire that she felt for him. _

_He felt her body tense beneath his hands, the sexual tension between them scorching. His breath quickened, his heart beating wildly in his chest, and he felt the physical ramifications of his desire. He pressed himself harder against her and bent his mouth to her ear. _

"_Oh Jen" he whispered against her._

_She wanted to pull away – her head told her that she needed to stop this; her body, however, appeared to be a separate entity and moulded back into him further. She was in a heightened state of arousal now, and wanted nothing more than to feel him with her, feel his skin against hers, his hands on her body._

_The house phone rang, the sudden shrill noise shocking them into springing apart, gathering their senses, regaining their composure._

_Jen flushed with embarrassment, suddenly aware that their little liaison would have been captured on camera. She silently cursed herself for having let her guard down, her defences drop. She mustn't forget that they were on an assignment which was highly dangerous; they could not compromise their safety and the safety of others, by letting themselves get carried away with feelings and desires._

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><p>They looked at each other, both caught up in the feelings that this moment was rekindling in them.<p>

Nick reached out to touch Jen's face, his heart full of love for her. She pulled away, and arose from the couch. "I have to go."

Nick looked down at his hands, and sat back, deflated.

He wanted her so much, but it felt as though she were slowly pulling back from him. After four years of waiting, he wasn't sure whether he could say goodbye to her again; but for the time being, at least, he would have to.

His voice was quiet with the defeat that he felt. "Okay. Thanks Jen. For being here."

She bent down and kissed him quickly on the cheek. "No problem. See you tomorrow."

And with that, she was gone.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own City Homicide or its characters.

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><p>5.<p>

Jen sat behind her computer, scrolling through the emails on her screen. Mostly departmental circulars and memos, nothing particularly exciting or interesting.

Her eyes darted upwards, and she caught Duncan's attention. "Dunny. How long has Nick been in there with Wolfey, do you reckon?"

Duncan looked over his desk towards Stanley Wolfe's office. "Dunno. A good fifteen minutes, I'd say. They'll be going over what happened yesterday. Internal Affairs will want to interview him, too."

"Yeah, and us" Jen sighed, her shoulders hunched. She felt bad about leaving Nick the way that she had last night. She knew that he had wanted company, had probably needed her to stay; but she couldn't. She was scared of what might happen if she stayed.

It was obvious that there was still something between them, and she didn't trust herself to spend too much time alone with him. It could never work. If they were to become involved with each other, one of them would end up having to leave the squad, and she didn't want that to happen. Homicide was her life, now. She couldn't imagine what her life would be like if she weren't in Homicide.

No, she would have to try to maintain some distance from Nick. Even as she thought it to herself, she knew that it was almost impossible to keep away from him. She seemed to gravitate towards him without even realising it. They had spent so long together, living so closely, learning about one another's likes and dislikes, their habits, both annoying and pleasing; they knew so much about each other, she felt as though she were home, when she was with him, such was the level of comfort between them. She felt as though he knew her better than anyone in the world, that he was her best friend.

Part of her wished that he had never come to Homicide. This situation was simply impossible.

Wolfey's office door opened, and Jen was quickly jolted from her thoughts. She looked up, watching intently as Nick made his way over to his desk, where he sat positioned on a corner, between both Jen and Duncan.

He avoided looking at her. She felt a momentary twinge of regret, hoping that he was not upset with her for her sudden departure the previous night.

"So, mate" Duncan said quietly. "How did it go?"

"You know how these things work, Duncan. Internals will be here sometime today to interview me about the shooting. And I have to see the psych and be cleared before I can get my gun back, and go back onto active duty. Until then, I'm a desk jockey." Nick glanced quickly over at Jen, catching her eye, then looked hurriedly away. _Damn, he is upset with me._

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><p><em>She lay in the dark, eyes tightly shut, willing sleep to come. <em>

_He moved his leg, making the bed move slightly with him. He stopped. _

_No, it was moving again. _

_Now it had stopped._

_Now he reached down to scratch his calf. She felt herself move along with the motion of his franticly scratching fingers. She resisted the urge to sigh loudly, feeling agitated now._

_The scratching stopped._

_**Thank goodness, **__she thought. __**Go to sleep.**_

_He coughed._

_**You've got to be kidding me!**_

_He reached across and turned on the bedside light._

"_Oh, for gods sake, what are you doing?" She was annoyed._

"_I need to get a drink of water". He got up out of the bed._

"_You can be sooo annoying sometimes" Jen sighed. She rolled over huffily, facing away from his side of the bed, and waited impatiently for him to return._

_Finally, he got back into bed and turned off the light._

_At last, it was quiet. He was still. She heard his breathing slow and even out. She smiled to herself and closed her eyes._

_A slight snore._

_**No, no, no! **__She thought. Another slight snore. Not loud, but loud enough that she knew that it would keep her awake._

_She sat up and pulled at his ear._

"_Ouch! What was that for?" Nick sat bolt upright._

"_You were snoring."_

"_I don't snore" he whined._

"_Honestly" Jen huffed "there are some nights that you just drive me crazy. And I can't believe that you're snoring."_

"_I don't snore. Maybe I'm a bit snuffly, getting a cold or something."_

_Jen felt herself pouting like a spoilt child. She loved her sleep and nothing irritated her more than when sleep was denied her._

_Nick got up out of bed._

"_Where are you going?" she asked, suddenly sorry that she may have hurt his feelings._

"_I'll go out to the lounge and read for a bit, so you can get to sleep first. I'll come back later, when you've dropped off."_

_Part of her wanted to hug him for being so thoughtful, her irritation mostly forgotten. __**God, he can be so sweet! **_

_A few minutes later, and sleep still eluded her. She felt guilty now, feeling responsible for sending him away. She sighed in irritation and got up out of bed, pulling her robe around her._

_She found him in the lounge room, sprawled across the sofa with a book. She sat on the floor in front of him._

"_I'm sorry. I'm not used to sharing my bed with someone else."_

_He looked at her over the top of his book. "Well, neither am I. It's hard to get used to. Sorry if I annoyed you. But I don't snore."_

"_No, it's okay. I'm a bit precious when it comes to sleep."_

"_Really?...I hadn't noticed..."_

_She chuckled and hit him playfully in the chest._

_He smiled widely. "So. I suppose that we're abject failures when it comes to living in matrimonial harmony."_

"_Oh, I wouldn't say that" Jen began. "I think we're doing okay. Come back to bed. I promise I won't complain. I'll stick tissues in my ears or something..."_

_He laughed, as he got up and followed her back into the bedroom._

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><p>She walked into the break room to make a coffee, needing some caffeine to help see her through the rest of the day.<p>

Nick sat at the table, cradling his mug of tea. He looked up when she walked in, and quickly dropped his eyes back down.

She sighed quietly. She had bridges to build. She sat opposite him. "Are you okay?"

His eyes met hers, and for the first time that day, he held her gaze. "Yeah. Just waiting to be called in by Internals."

She looked around to make sure that they were alone. "Nick, about last night..."her voice trailed off. What was it that she wanted to say? Where exactly was she going with this? She had no idea.

"You don't have to explain" he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Allie stuck her head in the doorway. "Hey Nick. The men in black are looking for you."

Nick got up. "Here we go."

Jen reached for his hand, touching it briefly. "You'll be fine, Nick."

"I'm not so sure about that" he muttered quietly as he left the room, and Jen, who knew this man so well, knew that he wasn't referring to his interview with Internal Affairs.


	6. Chapter 6

A big thanks to Marlza and Hamilyn for your continued reviews. I am glad that you are enjoying this :) I am having lots of fun writing it, although I am finding it somewhat difficult to write this story for various reasons :(

I am hoping that in this chapter, you get a bit of an explanation for Jen running out on Nick in Chapter 4, and I hope that she redeems herself somewhat.

Disclaimer: I do not own City Homicide or its characters.

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><p>6.<p>

It seemed like hours before Nick came out of the interview room, even though Jen knew that he had only been in there for just over an hour.

She felt anxious for him; even though she knew that he had followed protocol, had done nothing wrong, just the mention of Internal Affairs was enough to make any Police Officer nervous. You felt guilty, even when you knew that you hadn't done anything!

She was also worried about his state of mind, given what he had told her about his brother. She felt guilty about having left him alone last night, and her regret increased with each passing hour of the day.

She wanted to talk to him, make sure that he understood; but she wasn't sure if he would let her get that close to him. She felt nausea in the pit of her stomach, borne out of anxiousness and that terrible feeling that comes from being in conflict with someone that you love.

She didn't want to let herself think about Nick in that way. Certainly, they had become close during their time undercover together, and there was definitely a physical attraction between them, a sexual chemistry that was just dying to be unleashed.

She loved him in the way that she loved a best friend; but was there more to it than that? It made Jen feel distinctly uncomfortable, but she thought that there was. She couldn't deny her attraction to him, and she couldn't deny that she felt something for him, something intense, something that pulled her towards him despite her best intentions to keep away.

She thought about yesterday's shooting. She had been frightened, when Nick ventured out from behind the relative safety of the unmarked sedan, to face William Clegg. She was scared for him. She remembered calling out his name, her lip trembling, her chin wobbling. Her hands had been shaking and she had felt a certain dread fill her body, a terrible fear that this man who meant so much to her, was going to be hurt.

Yes, she thought that she probably did love him; but as quickly as the thought surfaced, she pushed it back down, burying it deep beneath her tough exterior. She knew that they couldn't be together, even though at this point, part of her would give anything for that to happen.

She had worked so hard to get where she was. She had fought her way through in a male dominated field, she had earned their respect.

It had been so difficult for her when she first joined Homicide. She had been put in Wilton Sparks' team, and he had been an archaic, chauvinistic pratt who had used her as his personal coffee maid. If it hadn't of been for Stanley Wolfe, she would have probably given up and gone back to Fraud, where they at least tried to pretend that they had respect for her.

She had heard the way that male officers talked about female colleagues who had slept with fellow officers. No, she had worked too hard, had jumped over too many hurdles to lose the respect of her seniors and her colleagues, by entering into a forbidden relationship with a fellow team member. No matter how much she wanted to.

She knew that she needed to be there as Nick's friend, she needed to support him through this. She had not done a particularly good job of that last night. She had run away like a scared little girl, when it became apparent that he still had those feelings for her. She ignored what Nick had confided to her about his family, focused only on her own needing to get away. She knew that she had hurt him, and she knew that she needed to repair it. Quickly.

She couldn't lose her best friend.

"Duncan, you're next cab off the rank, apparently". Nick sat down at his desk, as Duncan sighed and arose from his chair, ambling over to the interview room that Nick had just vacated.

Allie and Rhys were out on assignment, so Nick found himself alone at the desk, with Jen. He looked over at her. She had tried to catch his eye all morning, and he had tried his best to avoid her. He felt hurt at the way that she had left last night, when he had so needed her to be there.

He also felt shattered at the thought that she didn't seem to reciprocate how he felt about her. He knew that there was an attraction between them; that had been obvious when they were undercover. He thought that it was still obvious now. He couldn't understand why she wouldn't give in to it. They were no longer bound by cameras, no longer on assignment, having to watch themselves. He failed to see what the issue was. Working closely with her, and wanting her the way that he did – it was killing him.

Jen felt his eyes on her, and looked up to meet his gaze. "How did it go?" she asked quietly.

"Oh, you know. It's just a formality, really."

"Right." Jen shifted uncomfortably in her seat, not quite knowing how to proceed, not wanting to feel the sting of rejection. "Nick...can we talk?"

He leaned back in his chair and nodded slightly. "So, talk."

"I don't think this is a conversation that we can have at work. Can we catch up later? For a drink?"

Nick shrugged his shoulders, trying to appear nonchalant. "If you like."

"Good." She sighed. He was making this difficult for her. This was going to be hard work. She figured she probably deserved it, but it hurt, all the same.

It seemed like ages ago that they had been close, friendly and familiar; a couple of days ago, she had sat on his desk with a coffee, discussing the case with Matt and Claudia. They had shared the coffee between them, a natural thing to do, something they had done so many times as Trish and Wesley, as a loving husband and wife. It probably looked to others as an act that was overly familiar, but to Jen, it had felt natural, it had felt right.

She longed to feel that way again. She swallowed and tried to push back the tears that she felt forming at the corners of her eyes. _Why did this have to be so hard?_


	7. Chapter 7

Haha! I enjoyed writing this one, hope you enjoy reading it :)

Disclaimer: I do not own City Homicide or it's characters.

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><p>7.<p>

_He touched her hand lightly. The electricity ran through her, her nerve ends tingling from her head down to her toes._

_They stared into each others' eyes, their words unspoken, but both knowing; knowing where this was going to lead._

_He leant his head against her cheek and whispered into her ear._

_He got up slowly and made his way down the hallway. _

_A few moments later, she got up and followed, making her way into the bathroom, the only room in the house without a camera._

_He was waiting for her._

_For a few moments, they just looked at one another: and then they fell together, their open mouths crushing each other, their bodies pressed together tightly._

_His hands roamed freely, over her back, along her waist, over the mounds of her breasts, inside her skirt._

_Her hands held the back of his head, her fingers entwined in his hair, pulling his head closer towards hers. _

_He planted passionate kisses along her forehead, her cheek, her neck, lightly nipping at her with his teeth._

_She groaned against him, her hands running over his buttocks, feeling the tautness beneath the denim fabric of his jeans._

_He pushed her towards the vanity cupboard, and lifted her onto it. Her legs circled his waist, locking themselves around him._

_He pushed her top up, his hands running over her breasts. His hand slipped into the soft fabric of her bra, and he stroked her with his thumb. _

_She moaned softly against his mouth, her hands dipping into the waistband of his jeans. She ran her hands over him and he pressed harder against her, bending his head down to her breast, his lips tracing an outline along the edge of her lace bra._

_He pulled his head back up to look at her, his hands travelling along her thighs, hitching her skirt up. His fingers hooked into her underpants, and he pulled them slowly off her. She unhooked her legs from his waist to help him remove them completely. He tossed them onto the floor._

_She looked deep into his eyes as his hands worked themselves around her body. Small noises were escaping her throat and she ground herself against him, wanting to feel him moving with her. Her hands were beneath his t-shirt, against his stomach, enjoying the feel of his tight muscles._

_He groaned as her hands moved lower on his abdomen and he pushed against her, needing this badly now._

_She undid the button on his jeans, and as he began to try to free himself from them, it suddenly dawned on her what they were about to do. She pulled back from his hold on her, panting, as he moved his head against her neck and kissed, moving her top aside to gain access to her shoulder._

_She placed her hands against his chest and applied gentle pressure._

"_Nick, stop."_

_He stared at her in almost disbelief, frozen to the spot, his breathing ragged, his voice hoarse with desire. "What's wrong?"_

_It was killing her to say it, but she knew that she needed to be responsible, get a grip back on reality, put an end to the madness._

"_Nick, we can't do this. We can't compromise the assignment like this." She pulled her top back down. "I'm sorry."_

_She removed herself from the cupboard, smoothing her skirt down over her hips._

_Flushing with embarrassment, she retrieved her panties from the bathroom floor and put them back on. She couldn't believe that she was doing this, that she was turning down sex with perhaps the most desirable man that she had ever met. _

_She ached for him, she wanted this so badly, yet she knew that they had to remain professional and that this could not happen, no matter how much they both wanted it._

_Nick sighed, feeling completely deflated in more ways than one. He knew that she was right, and he was angry at himself for having lost self-control._

_This couldn't happen, not here, not now when they were on assignment and undertaking duties in the interest of national security. What had they been thinking?_

_He cupped her face in his hands, gazing deeply into her eyes. He could see the desire in them, the regret._

"_Jen" he breathed._

_She placed one hand over his. "I know" she whispered._

_She kissed him lightly on the lips, a soft, lingering kiss that spoke not only of regret, but of promises._

_He leaned back against the bathroom wall, regaining his composure as he watched her walk out of the bathroom, self-consciously smoothing out her top, and padding down the sides of her skirt._

_He sighed heavily. Things would never be the same for either of them, again._


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I do not own City Homicide or its characters.

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><p>8.<p>

After what seemed like the longest day in history, it was finally time to go home.

Nick and Jen had agreed to go to the pub around the corner from headquarters. Jen was nervous about talking to him, trying to explain herself, but she also couldn't help but feel excitement at the prospect of spending some time with him.

She stood and grabbed her jacket from the back of her chair, easing herself into it, and grabbing her handbag from beneath her desk. She looked over at Nick. "You ready to go?"

He nodded and got up, grabbing his keys and phone.

They walked slowly together to the elevator.

"Hey guys! Wait up!"

Jen stopped and turned around. Matt came bounding after them. "What are you guys up to?"

"Ah, just going for a quick drink". As soon as she had said it, Jen knew that she had made a mistake.

"Great!" Matt exclaimed. "I could really use one after these last couple of days."

Jen looked over at Nick apologetically. He raised his eyebrow at her, and tilted his head slightly to the side _What can we do?_

They got into the lift. Jen leant against the inside wall, and closed her eyes. This day could not get any worse.

* * *

><p><em>He came out of the bathroom wearing his boxer shorts and a t-shirt, shaving cream plastered on his face. <em>

_He entered the bedroom where she was sitting on the side of the bed, doing up the buttons on her blouse._

"_Hey, where did you put that new packet of razors we got the other day?" he asked her._

_She looked up at him. It was a credit to him that he could still manage to look totally hot, in daggy boxer shorts, and covered in shaving cream, she thought._

"_In the bathroom cupboard."_

"_I looked in there. I couldn't see them anywhere."_

_She smiled. "Did you have a proper look or a man look?"_

_He cocked his head to the side and smirked at her._

"_Come on Jen. You know I do things properly."_

_Jen got up, and started to walk out of the room. "Bet I find them straight away"._

_He smiled as he watched her walk down the hall towards the bathroom, admiring the sway of her hips._

_"Baby, I just love to watch you move" he muttered under his breath._

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><p>Matt was onto his third beer, and looked as though he were settling in for the evening.<p>

Jen sighed, feeling irritated by his presence. Couldn't he pick up on the fact that he was a third wheel? She had things that she needed to talk to Nick about.

Nick, who had remained relatively quiet throughout. Nick, who was still on his first beer, and who was looking decidedly bored, but was doing his best to appear sympathetic to Matt's ramblings about Emma.

"And then she said that we hadn't been getting on for ages. Can you believe it? Just like that. Wish she'd have told me, 'cos I had no idea that we weren't getting on. I thought things were okay."

Jen ran her finger around the rim of her glass. "Well, you know Matt. Sometimes things just don't work out the way that you expect. But everything happens for a reason. There'll be a silver lining somewhere..."

"You could not be more right, Jen. Because I am definitely going to sit the Sergeant's exams. I never did it before, because of Emma. But I'm bloody well going to do it now!"

"Yeah, well, why don't you do that Matt?" Nick got up.

"You getting another round, mate?" Matt asked hopefully.

"No, I'm off" Nick said. "Places to go, people to see..."

Jen looked up at him, her face full of apology and regret. She wanted to stop him from leaving, reach out and grab his hand, pull him back; but she couldn't. Not with Matt here. Matt, who had managed, in a short space of time, to ruin Jen's evening completely.

"You want another one, Jen?" Matt asked, getting up from the table.

"No, I should really think about going too."

"Oh come on," Matt whined. "I've got no-one to go home to...stay for one more."

Nick gave her a slight smile as he began to walk away; he knew how kind hearted she was, how much trouble she had saying no to others.

"Okay" she sighed. "Just a quick one, Matt. I really have to go."

She watched Matt walk to the bar. In a sudden movement, she jumped up from the table, and quickly made her way over to him. "Matty...I just need to catch Nick for second. Forgot to pass on a message for him from Dunny. I'll be back in a sec..."

Jen raced out of the pub, and looked wildly around outside. She spied him, a bit further up the laneway, and ran to try to catch up to him.

"Nick!" she called.

He stopped and turned to look at her.

"I'm so sorry about that" she exclaimed breathlessly. "I need to talk to you."

"I know."

"Can I come over later? When I'm finished here? I'll only be another half hour."

Nick chuckled softly. "Half an hour? With Matt crying into his beer, like that? Good luck."

"Well, I don't need to talk to Matt. But I do need to talk to you. I'll come over soon. Okay?" She was frightened that he would say no, that he didn't want her to come to him.

Instead, he reached out and took her hand in his. He rubbed her palm between his thumb and forefinger. She shuddered at his touch.

"See you soon, Jen." He let go of her hand, and began walking away.

* * *

><p><em>He stood at the kitchen bench, chopping vegetables, while she was busily trimming the chicken breasts, ready to coat in the waiting marinade.<em>

"_You know" he said, leaning over to pop a piece of raw carrot into her mouth. "The only vegie I could never stand was squash. Hated it as a kid, still don't like it now."_

_She looked at him in amazement. "Me too! It has absolutely no taste. Why would you bother?"_

"_My thoughts exactly. Always liked pumpkin though."_

"_Mmmm. Pumpkin soup"._

"_Perfect comfort food."_

_She looked at him. "Do you cook much? For yourself? I mean, it's just that a lot of bachelors don't bother much with things like that..."_

"_I love cooking. Sometimes I can't be bothered, but if I get time, I like to play around a bit. You seem like you do a fair bit, though?"_

_She smiled, placing the chicken into the marinade, and tossing it, to coat it properly. "Yeah, I don't mind it. But you know...sometimes when I get back late from work, I don't really feel like doing much."_

"_Yeah, I know what you mean. Sometimes it'd be nice to have someone there to do it all for you."_

_Jen laughed. "You need to get yourself a wife!"_

_Nick patted her playfully. "I have you, don't I, my dear?" He looked away. "When this is all over, I might just have to take you home with me..."_

_She turned to look at him. He wasn't smiling, his eyes instead full of contemplation and wistful longing. _


	9. Chapter 9

Thanks so much for the reviews. I actually found this chapter really difficult to write, so I hope that it comes across okay. Probably another 3 or 4 chapters to come after this one, if I can keep the momentum going!

Disclaimer: I do not own City Homicide or its characters.

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><p>9.<p>

"Matt, you've had too many to drive." Jen glanced at her watch in irritation. It was starting to get late, she needed to get to Nick.

"Are you offering me a lift?"

She sighed, mentally calculating how long it would take her to drive Matt home, and then drive in the opposite direction to Nick's house.

She stood up, grabbing her bag. "Well,hurry up then, because this taxi is leaving right now."

Matt made no move to get up, instead taking another swig of his beer.

"Matt!" Jen was frustrated now, the annoyance was evident in her voice. "I need to be somewhere."

Matt started to get up out of his chair, slightly unsteady on his feet. "Okay, okay! I'm coming".

It took fifteen minutes for her to help Matt out of the pub and back to the underground carpark at work, to her car.

It was after nine by the time she knocked on Nick's door. She felt awful about being so late, and it dawned on her that she just couldn't do anything right, at the moment. Not when it came to Nick, anyway.

He opened the door and regarded her with a slight smile. "Told you that you wouldn't get out of there in half an hour."

Jen walked in, following Nick into the kitchen. "I know that he was upset, but honestly, it was painful. _**And**_ I had to end up driving him home."

Nick chuckled softly. They stood and looked at one another, an uncomfortable silence between them. Nick broke it first. "Tea?"

She relaxed her shoulders. "Yeah, thanks."

He had been upset with her, but he could never stay angry with her for long, and he had already softened in his attitude towards her.

The tea made, they settled onto the couch. Jen placed her mug on the coffee table, and regarded him with serious eyes. "I'm sorry for the way I left last night. It was nothing to do with you...it was about me. And it shouldn't have been. Not after what you'd told me." She reached for his hand. "I appreciate you telling me about your brother. I'm so sorry that you went through that."

"You know I'd never keep anything from you, Jen. You probably know more about me than anyone does."

"Yeah, I know." She looked down at their hands, fingers entwined. "It's just that all of this, us working together – it's bringing up things from before, from when we were undercover. It's hard not being able to talk to anyone about what happened, and it's hard pretending that we don't know each other the way that we do. I don't really know how to deal with it all."

Nick looked deep into her eyes. He didn't want to scare her off, but he needed to tell her what was on his mind. "I didn't think I'd see you again."

"I know. I nearly died when you walked into Matt and Emma's that night. I had no idea what to do."

He smiled at her, squeezing her hand. "I think you handled it pretty well, you managed to act like you didn't know me."

Jen looked away from him, feeling emotional. "I found it really hard to cope. Afterwards. With being back in my own life, having to carry on like normal, Not being able to talk to anyone about what had happened. I kept having nightmares about some of that stuff that happened. I couldn't sleep properly." She looked embarrassed. " I really missed you during that time."

He felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe all was not lost. "Me too. Talking to the departmental psych is okay, but it's not the same as talking to someone else who went through the same thing. I still don't sleep properly."

"Me either. I often see Hartono's face, see what he did...then I get worried that one day he'll see me around somewhere, I'll run into him. And then what? If he suspects that we were never who we said we were, then we become targets as well..."

The tears welled up in her eyes, and no matter how she tried, she could not stop them from starting to fall. Now that she had started talking about it, she couldn't deny her fear, couldn't pretend to him that she was strong, that she wasn't still haunted by the things that had happened four years previously.

He took her in his arms and held her tightly, lightly brushing his lips against the side of her head. Against her better judgement, she couldn't help but sink into him, feeling enveloped by his arms, completely safe and protected. It was the first time in four years that she had felt that way.

* * *

><p><em>They hurried back inside the rental property that was their home. Jen was trembling. She looked to Nick for support, for comfort. Nick, who was pacing up and down the living room floor, arms locked behind his head.<em>

"_What now?" Jen asked. "What are we supposed to do?"_

_He stopped pacing and looked at her. "We wait"._

_Her lips trembled slightly, betraying the emotion that she felt. "I can't sit around just waiting, Nick. Hartono __**knows**__ that someone has been double crossing him. It's over!"_

_Nick sat down at the dining table, wringing his hands. "There's no reason to think that he suspects it's us. Let's calm down and think about this rationally."_

_Jen felt as though she were teetering on the brink. She was terrified, and she couldn't hide it from him. She had never felt so scared, so vulnerable._

"_But he looked straight at __**me **__when he said that he knows who it is, that he's going to make them pay!"_

_Nick stood and grabbed Jen by the shoulders. He looked into her eyes, his voice soothing. "Jen, it's okay. I won't let anything happen to us. It's going to be okay."_

_He wrapped her in his arms, lightly kissing the top of her head. He couldn't guarantee their safety, he knew that. Their lives depended upon their SIS colleagues being on the ball, and looking out for them. They also had the support of Jamie, another undercover operative, who was also working the same assignment. He would contact Jamie tonight, discuss the new development._

_Nick fully expected the SIS to make contact soon, give some guidance about how to proceed. In the meantime, he needed to try to keep Jennifer as calm as possible._

* * *

><p>Still cradling her in his arms, Nick whispered softly against her ear. "Stay with me. Just tonight. I think we both just need to not be alone."<p>

She nodded slowly. Part of her didn't think that being close to him was a wise idea, but feeling his arms around her again, she knew that she couldn't leave even if she wanted to.

He gave her a long windcheater to put on. She changed in the bathroom, pulling it over her underwear.

When she came out, he had already changed into his boxers and a t-shirt and he was in bed.

Shyly, she climbed in next to him, and curled up on her side. He reached over and turned out the light, then lay behind her, facing her back. Without really meaning to, she moved herself back against him, snuggling into the curve of his body. He was warm and strong and it was everything that she remembered, everything that she had missed.

He moved his arm around to lay over her waist, and her hand immediately settled upon it. They had settled into the familiar sleeping position that they had shared for 13 months, all those years ago. She closed her eyes, feeling completely comfortable, knowing that this was how it was supposed to be.


	10. Chapter 10

Sorry for the delay in posting, have been very busy and have to admit, I lost my flow with everything else that has been going on, and hit a bit of a brick wall. Two more to come after this one.

Disclaimer: I do not own City Homicide or its characters.

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><p>10.<p>

The next morning, Nick woke early and he lay looking at Jen. It felt so good to have her next to him again, he wished it could be this way always.

He wanted to lean into her, hold her close, kiss her, but he knew that he couldn't; he shouldn't.

* * *

><p><em>Under the cover, his hand reached across, trying to find hers. He clasped it tightly, his fingers rubbing against hers. She squeezed back. <em>

_In the silence, in the dark, he heard her breath quicken slightly._

_His other hand reached out beneath the doona and rested on her stomach, feather light caresses._

_She turned to him, and he moved closer towards her. He pulled the cover up higher, their heads partly obscured. It was dark, it was late. How much notice would they be taking?_

_She reached out to touch his cheek, and leaned in to him for a small kiss. His lips hungrily crushed hers, and she responded by moving his hand to her breast, in a ritual that was now repeated night after night._

_After the 'incident' in the bathroom, when they had stopped themselves from making love, they had been unable to contain the attraction, the passion that had been aroused in them from their earlier digression._

_Each night, they would pull the covers up, hiding their faces from the camera, making out like a couple of teenagers at a drive-in-theatre._

_They both wanted more, but knew that it just couldn't happen, not here in this house, not on this assignment; but each night, it was harder to hold back. He thought that he would go crazy with desire for her. She would bite her lip to try to keep from crying out, as his hands explored her beneath the covers, gentle caresses that drove her to the brink of ecstasy._

_They couldn't deny the feelings that they had for one another, but they also found comfort in each other, the physical closeness helping to make them forget about the danger they faced on a daily basis; comfort that was helping them to relieve the stress and tension they both felt, all of the time._

* * *

><p>When Jen woke up, it was oddly awkward between them. Although nothing had happened, it was almost as if she were embarrassed by their closeness; she had to go home and change before work, so she refused Nick's offer of coffee and breakfast, and left.<p>

Later, at work, Nick sat at his desk thinking. She was obviously uncomfortable with the fact that they had been so close, four years ago. She had told him as much, stating that she didn't know how to deal with the situation, with the fact that they were now working together.

He was still so attracted to her, but he knew that if it came down to it, he would have to be satisfied with having her friendship only. He didn't know if that were possible; could two people who had been so close, just be friends?

They hadn't slept together – well, they had really, they just hadn't completed the act, so to speak. His hands had explored every part of her body, his lips had been places that he could now only imagine. Her fingers had felt him, caressed him, teased him.

He remembered the arch of her back, the softness of her breasts, the tautness of her stomach. He had seen the scar on the inside of her arm, the result of a childhood accident in a cubbyhouse. He knew about the beauty spot that was just below her left breast, the small birthmark that was on her inner thigh.

Were these things that friends should know about each other? He thought not. He didn't want things to be awkward between them. He felt such love for her, he couldn't stand it if she were to pull away from him completely.

Jen was in the break room, making herself a cup of tea. She felt exhausted. Even though she had slept better than she had in a long time ( four years to be exact, if she were being honest with herself) she felt tired; tired with the constant struggle that was going on inside her; she felt as though she were fighting to keep things under wraps, her feelings under control.

She hated having to constantly think about what she said to Nick in front of the others, always being so careful to not slip up, not say something that would indicate that they knew each other so well. She had to pretend that she didn't know the things about him that she did, and it was tiring, this constant having to pretend.

A slight smile came across her face, as she thought about him. His little habits and nuances, the way that he did things. He had always been incredibly tidy, almost to the point of fussiness. She also liked to be tidy, but seeing it in a man, it made her laugh.

He had always been fastidious with his washing, his ironing – he was better at ironing that she was, she remembered with a chuckle.

He loved to read his papers, and he loved watching the news. It was almost an obsession with him, keeping abreast of what was going on in the world.

She thought about how he had comforted her, every time that she had been scared, or upset. His gentle touches on her face, her light caresses on her back, his strong arms encasing her, making her feel safe.

She knew that somehow, she had to wipe these memories from her consciousness, if they were to continue working together, if they wanted to remain friends. She had to try to forget everything that had happened between them.

No-one could ever know. If it ever came to light that they had worked undercover together, they would have SIS to answer to. They were signatories to the Official Secrets Act, and Jen knew that because of that, they never stopped working for SIS.

She knew that she could never stay away from Nick, that he was too important to her for him to not be in her life, on some level; but they needed to keep things in perspective. They could only ever be friends and colleagues, but she knew that they would have to fight a constant battle to keep things that way. Jen would have to talk to him, she decided. She had to let him know that they needed to forget, they needed to put the past behind them, and move on.


	11. Chapter 11

Thanks for the reviews. One more chapter to come after this.

Disclaimer: I do not own City Homicide or its characters.

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><p>11.<p>

_Jen was nervous, her stomach doing somersaults with the anxiety. Nick pulled up in front of the suburban home. There were already a few cars there._

_Hartono had called a gathering at his house. Said that he wanted to talk about business, needed everyone involved to be present. Given his recent suspicion that someone had been double crossing him, Nick and Jen were understandably tense._

_Jen reached over and grabbed Nick's hand, her fingers lacing with his. He looked over at her, feeling worried, but wanting to reassure her that everything would be okay. He knew how frightened she was. "Are you okay?" he asked quietly._

_She nodded slowly. "I just want this to be over."_

"_We can do this, Trish."_

"_I know." _

_Nick started to get out of the car, but Jen's hand on his arm pulled him back. He stopped and looked at her. _

_In her eyes, he saw a mixture of fear, concern and affection. She gave him a slight smile, trying her best to convince him that she was okay. He reached over and ran his fingers down her cheek, feeling incredible warmth for this woman before him, this woman that he had known as his wife, for the past 12 months. _

_He wished that there was some other way, that he could go in there alone, not have to take Jen in there with him; but he knew that Hartono would be suspicious if Wesley turned up to a business meeting without Trish. _

_No, there was no way out of this, she had to be there with him. _

_His heart sank at the prospect of Jen being placed in any sort of danger, and he knew, in that brief moment, that he would do anything to protect her, that he would give his life for her._

_Hartono let them into his home, and he was looking decidedly cheerful. Nick didn't think that boded well; Hartono was usually a sombre and sullen man, not known for his good humour and cheerful disposition. No, Nick suspected that all was not well, and despite an overwhelming desire to grab Jen and run, he held her hand tightly and they walked into the living room, where they were met by a group of six others. _

_Abdul Supomo was there – Abdul was their handler, and he was also paid by the SIS. Jen was relieved to see him, his kind face and eyes providing her with some comfort. _

_Jamie, another SIS operative was also present, and Nick felt that there was some safety in numbers. _

_The other four people in the room were people they knew, who had been engaged in the business of running guns for Hartono. _

_Hartono stood in the middle of the room, scanning the scene. Again, he smiled, and the uneasy feeling that Nick had felt earlier, returned once again. _

_Hartono began to speak. "I have spoken to each of you over the last week, and made it known that I am aware that someone is not being truthful. Someone has been providing information to people that they should not have spoken to. My operation has been compromised, and I need to be clear that this will not happen again."_

_Jen eyed the room nervously. She caught Abdul's eye momentarily, before he looked hurriedly away. She hoped that Abdul had not become scared, and sold them out to Hartono. She didn't want to believe that he could have, but she knew that he had a wife, a young family, that he needed to protect. _

_Hartono put his hands in the pockets of his jacket, and continued. "I have discovered who I believe has been the one talking, and now I need to make it clear to all of you that if you are not honest with me, if you cross me at all and jeopardise my business and my plans, there will be consequences."_

_With that, Hartono pulled a small pistol out of his pocket, and fired at Jamie, at point blank range. The pistol, fitted with a silencer, made minimal noise – a slight popping sound, but there was no mistaking the fatal consequences of Hartono's act. Jamie was hit in the forehead, and dropped to the ground, immediately dead._

_Jen felt a scream rising in her throat, but Nick had grabbed hold of her and pulled her close into a tight embrace, his hand covering her mouth. He did not want to draw further attention to her. He felt her trembling against him._

_Hartono calmly placed the pistol back into his pocket. "Let this be a warning. I am not a fool. I will not be crossed. I will contact you all again when I have need. Please leave now."_

_Nick, almost disbelieving at what had just transpired before them, led Jen out to the car. The others followed, heading towards their own vehicles. No-one spoke. _

_Nick put Jen into the car and then he drove. He drove a good few blocks before he pulled over to the side of the road and turned off the vehicle. He stared at Jen. She was obviously in shock at what had happened. He leaned over and pulled her into his arms. He was disturbed by her silence, by her lack of tears, and was worried that she was definitely in shock and may need medical attention._

_He used his mobile phone and called the contact person that they had been assigned in SIS. Quietly, he let them know what had occurred, and then, in a hushed voice, questioned the continuing safety of himself and Jennifer as undercover operatives. Nick was told that they were not deemed to be at risk at this time, and to return to their rental property, someone from SIS would come around shortly._

_Later that night, as they lay in bed, Nick turned to Jen and pulled her to him. She finally dissolved into quiet sobs, her body heaving against his chest. "I don't want to do this anymore. I want to go back to my life!"_

"_I know" Nick soothed softly, stroking her hair. "I know."_

_She looked up at him in the dark. "Are we going to get out of this alive?"_

"_Of course we are." He squeezed her tightly, trying to exude an air of confidence; but even he was not convinced that they would escape this assignment with their lives. _


	12. Chapter 12

This is the last chapter in this fic. Hope you enjoy. I am thinking that I will follow this up with a fic covering the second u/cover mission. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed; knowing that people are reading and enjoying encourages writers to keep writing!

Disclaimer: I do not own City Homicide or its characters.

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><p>12.<p>

_They sat in the back of the taxi, heading back towards the SIS base. This was it. It was over._

_Trish and Wesley had been "charged" and "imprisoned" for trafficking weapons for Hartono. A lot of Hartono's contacts, both in Australia and overseas, had also been imprisoned, as had Hartono himself. All in all, a successful operation, according to SIS head honcho's. Never mind the loss of Jamie – collateral damage, apparently._

_Jen was glad to be out of it. The last few weeks had been particularly difficult for her. She had been frightened for her life. She had seen things that she didn't want to ever see again. If it hadn't of been for Nick...She felt a tinge of sadness knowing that her time with him was at an end. _

_They had grown close, in more ways than one. Her feelings for him were all consuming. It had got to a stage where she just needed to feel close to him, and now, knowing that it was over, that their assignment was finished, she felt sick in her stomach thinking that today could be the last day that she would ever see him._

_She felt a sudden pang of regret that she had not allowed things to develop further between them, that she had not let him make love to her. Now, all she could do, was imagine what it would have been like. She felt the tears begin at the corners of her eyes, and she discreetly wiped them away. She didn't want him to see that she was upset._

_Nick sat looking out of the window of the taxi. His hand held hers tightly, his fingers stroking hers. He was relieved that the assignment was over, and that they had got out of it alive. They had been very lucky, all things considered; but Nick also felt an overwhelming sense of dread, creeping up from the pit of his stomach, eating away at the joyous relief he felt at being out of that house, out of that life._

_Would he ever see her again? He doubted it. They were both well aware of SIS protocol and the rules. He knew that he and Jen would be whisked away in separate vehicles, taken back to their lives, given new positions in new squads. He didn't know her surname. It was against SIS rules – they were only ever introduced on a first name basis. Full identifying details were prohibited. There would be no way to track her down, once they had been sent their separate ways._

_How had this happened? How had he managed to fall in love with the operative he had been paired with? Nick had always been professional, had always maintained distance with colleagues. He'd never even entertained the thought of being in a relationship with a colleague, before. Admittedly, he had never been attracted to any of his previous female colleagues. _

_No, Jen was different. He knew that they had been placed in a situation where it was inevitable that they would become close, but it was more than that. _

_Jen was unlike anyone he'd ever met. There was a best friend quality to her, that playful, good humoured nature, that openness to talking about everything and anything. That honesty. Someone who would tell you like it is. And she was gorgeous, which didn't hurt matters, either. Those beautiful big eyes, that rosebud mouth, the terrific figure. _

_Nick sighed deeply. He didn't want to say goodbye._

_When they arrived at the SIS base, they were debriefed by Hollingsworth, who had run the assignment. He reiterated to them the protocols that they now had to follow. "New positions have been organised for you both. You'll be given details of your new squads later on today. You are not permitted to discuss this assignment, or your work with the SIS, with any of your new colleagues. You are not permitted to have contact with one another, for your own safety. Failure to comply with any of the SIS protocols could result in charges being brought against you. We're not inhuman, however; we recognise that you've spent a considerable amount of time together, so you'll be given fifteen minutes to say your goodbyes, and then you'll be taken to separate hotels to clean up, change, and be given details of your new positions. Best of luck."_

_And then they found themselves alone in the room. Jen looked over at Nick. Fifteen minutes. That's all they had. She didn't know what to say to him. 'Thanks for everything', just didn't seem to cut it, she thought. Thirteen months of feelings, and fifteen minutes. It didn't seem fair._

_Nick moved towards her, and wrapped his arms around her. He didn't know what to say, he didn't think that words would do how he felt, justice. She sunk into his embrace, his hands stroking her hair. "Jen" he whispered against her head. He took her face in his hands, and kissed her slowly. Her arms around his back, resting on his shoulders, pulling him to her. Neither wanted this to end. For fifteen minutes, they kissed, they touched, they stroked each other's faces, they held hands. There were no words. Words could not express the gratitude that Jen had for Nick; he had looked after her, comforted her,loved her, kept her safe. She would never forget that. _

_Nick had no words to offer her – he knew how he felt about her, but what was the use in verbalising it? They were never going to see one another again, and he didn't want to see any sign of rejection in her eyes, so things were best left unsaid. He would rather keep the memories that he had of her, and let his mind imagine what may have been._

_When it was time to go, they looked across at each other, and in that moment, Jen knew that she would never find someone else like Nick. No-one could possibly make her feel that way, again._

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><p>They sat at a quiet table in the corner of the bar. Jen had asked Nick out for a drink after work, wanting to keep it in neutral territory, with other people around them. As much as her heart and her body felt otherwise, she knew that she had to maintain some kind of distance, emotionally.<p>

Nick wasn't sure what to expect. He thought that they had been getting on well, despite a little awkwardness between them, and he thought there was a glimmer of hope of things developing further; but when she had asked him for a drink, chosen a relatively busy pub, his hopes had been slightly dashed. She was keeping this formal, she hadn't chosen somewhere intimate.

"Nick" she began slowly. "We have a history. The thing is, we both know that no-one can ever know about our work with SIS. No-one can know that we knew each other before. We could be in all sorts of trouble if that were to come out."

He nodded in agreement. "Sure."

"What happened between us – we were in a surreal situation, we were thrown together into something that was incredibly dangerous and stressful. It was only natural that we were going to become close, that we would turn to each other for comfort. Right?" Jen sounded as though she were trying to convince herself, and it was true; she was trying to convince herself that this was the way that things were.

Nick felt his hopes deflate. He could see where this was heading. What he wanted more than anything, was Jen. What he didn't want, was to lose her altogether. If she disappeared out of his life again, now, he didn't think he would cope. He looked at her, staring into her eyes, which betrayed the emotion that she felt. "You're right. We didn't really have a choice. We had to pretend that we were married, it was inevitable that we would become close. "

"We have to work together Nick. I think it's best if we try our best to forget the things that happened four years ago. We can't slip up, no-one can know that we worked together. The only way that we can make sure that it doesn't come out, is if we keep a bit of distance. Agreed?" She felt absolutely awful saying it, what she wanted more than anything was to feel his arms around her, his skin on her skin, his mouth on hers, his hands all over her; but it couldn't happen, and she needed to rid herself of these thoughts completely. The only way she do that, was to keep Nick at arm's length, treat him as she would any other colleague.

Nick felt as if his heart were being wrenched out of his body. He knew that she was right. He knew that what she was saying, made sense; but he didn't want it to be this way. He loved her, he was sure of that, and he wanted nothing more than to be with her.

He didn't quite believe that she didn't feel the same way, too. He remembered all those nights undercover, the way that she responded when he touched her. And now, working together – the looks that she gave him, the wistful longing that he had seen in her eyes.

No, he suspected that Jen didn't really want things to be this way. He would keep his distance, not push her, just be her colleague, be her friend; but he would wait. He would wait until she couldn't take it anymore, couldn't stay away, and then he would be there. Because he knew that she was aware of how he felt about her. She had to be. He had felt the electricity between them, the way that she responded whenever he was close to her.

As he looked deeply into her eyes, searching her soul, he knew that he would never love anyone else the way that he loved her. He would be waiting.

The End (for now)


End file.
